


When you were young

by stardustkr7



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: AU Steph as Nightwing future, Complete, F/M, Pre-New 52, Pre-Reboot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustkr7/pseuds/stardustkr7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephanie didn’t know why Damian kept glaring at her ever since she came back to work, but it was really getting frustrating. Was he really that upset that Dick had asked her to take over as Nightwing for a bit? It was ridiculous. This whole thing was only temporary anyway. And Damian was supposed to be doing the Batman thing now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stephanie didn't know why Damian kept glaring at her ever since she came back to work, but it was really getting frustrating. Was he really that upset that Dick had asked her to take over as Nightwing for a bit? It was ridiculous. This whole thing was only temporary anyway. And Damian was supposed to be doing the Batman thing now.

But still, the tall eighteen year old would scowl at her while she was working in the cave. And when she tried to ask him to spar to help get her back up to speed, it only ended in disaster. He had gotten, dare she say it, flustered with her apparent inability and fled the gym only four minutes in to their session.

The last time he had acted like this was her last year of being Batgirl, almost four years ago, during which Damian was just starting puberty.

Stephanie paused, frowning at the swinging punching bag before her.

_No … he got over all that, right?_

She had stopped doing hero work because she had been accepted to graduate school and thus had barely seen Damian Wayne anymore. It wasn't like they ran in similar social circles. Batgirl and Robin had been their connection. And while it had been tenuous at first, they had parted on good terms. There had even been a few instances where he curtly used her first name. And by the age of thirteen, he had stopped calling her 'fatgirl'(mostly because Kara threatened to beat the living snot out of him if she heard him say it again, but still).

Personally, Stephanie thought she had been exceedingly understanding of Damian's wild rollercoaster through puberty. She tried not to wear too tight of shirts around him and she didn't laugh (too much) when he had an untimely, noticeable arousal in her presence.

But for reals, the kid was eighteen now, way past the age of being unable to control his hormones. If that was even the problem.

_It's not all about you, Steph,_ she told herself wryly. Damian Wayne was tall, handsome, and very wealthy. He had girls falling all over him, according to the tabloids. He probably wasn't interested in a woman who was almost ten years older than him, subsisting on a grad student stipend, and only had a connection to him through their nighttime activities. No, that hormone-laced attraction of his youth had long since been gone.

So why did he keep giving her the stink eye?

And why did it bother her so much?

_Why don't you stop standing there like an idiot and go ask him?_

Sometimes her inner voice was kind of bitchy.

Stephanie strode over to the entryway of the gym in the Batcave, pulling off her gloves and tossing them to the ground. She found him seated before the computer, faint frown on his chiseled face, his sapphire blue eyes intently focused on the screen.

"What do you want, Brown?"

Stephanie tried not to wince at his tone as she walked up behind the chair. Of course, there was no sneaking up on the son of the Batman.

She sighed and said, "What is your deal, Damian? You've been a real ass to me ever since I came back to town."

He made his little "tt" noise, somewhere between a tut and a snort of derision. It was one thing both Bruce and Dick had failed to socialize out of him, despite the remarkable work they had done to make the boy a little milder in his manners.

"Nothing, Brown. Are you going out with Nell tonight?" he asked curtly, changing the subject.

She couldn't help but notice the new Batgirl earned her first name but suddenly she had been reverted back to her surname. Maybe something was there.

"Yes, we're covering the docks, midtown, and the diamond district," Stephanie reported, crossing her arms.

Damian finally made the mistake of turning around to scowl at her. In the dim light of the computer screen, she saw his eyes flicker down and his pupils dilate slightly before quickly focusing on her face.

_Oh?_

He cleared his throat. "Fine. I will be taking my usual route. You may go."

Stephanie raised an eyebrow at the dismissal. "Excuse me? You may be wearing the suit, but that doesn't mean you get to boss me around. Don't forget that I knew you when you were ten."

His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. "Don't you have extra training to do, Brown?"

"It would have been going quicker if you hadn't stormed off in a temper just because surprise surprise! It's been four years and I'm a little rusty still! What the hell is wrong with you? It's like you've reverted to your childhood monster form again!"

She probably shouldn't have lost her temper like that, especially when his eyes widened slightly at the accusation. It was still a sensitive subject and she knew how hard he had worked as a child to overcome his birth and become a hero. To throw it around so callously was undoubtedly cruel.

But where seven or so years ago he might have threatened to stab her, now he just glared at her before growling, "I have work to do," and storming off.

_Good one, Steph… you really got to the bottom of that …_

****************

"Hey, do you know what's been up with Damian lately?" Nightwing asked as they took a break on a favorite rooftop. It had been a fairly good evening of kicking butt out on the streets of Gotham.

"What do you mean?" Batgirl inquired, sipping a coffee.

"Ever since I came back, he's had a stick up his ass or something," Stephanie said, rolling her eyes.

Nell giggled a little. "He's always like that, especially now that he's Batman."

"Yeah, but he had gotten a lot better last time I saw him. He was even using my first name," she said, frowning slightly.

"Isn't it obvious, Steph?"

"He's jealous that Dick asked me to be Nightwing?" Some small part of her wanted that to be all it was; another, more dangerous part of her wanted it to be something more.

"No, his first love has come back into his life and she's an older, hot, mature woman and he doesn't know how to handle it," she said slyly.

Stephanie didn't know how to feel about this. On one hand, Nell was very fond of teasing all the members of the Batfamily. And they let her get away with it one too many times and now it wouldn't stop.

On the other, Damian had grown up. And he had grown up well. And despite the fact that she was nine years older than him … damn.

"Be real, Nell. He used your name. Is there something between you two?"

Nell gave her a slightly amused look. "No, trust me … Damian and I are not even remotely a possibility."

Both women fell quiet for a moment, sipping their coffees and lost in thought.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Nell finally broke the silence.

"What do you mean, do about it? He's like nine years younger than me, Nell! Isn't that … weird?"

The younger girl shrugged unhelpfully. "Isn't Barbara way older than Dick? It seems to be a trend with Robins and Batgirls… Anyway, I actually need to get home tonight. My mom picked up a night shift so I need to watch my sister."

Stephanie frowned again. "Is everything okay at home, Nell? You know if you just ask, B and the others will make sure things get taken care of. You're one of us," she said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I know, thank you, Stephanie," she said with a reassuring smile. "We're managing just fine. I'll see you later!"

And finally Stephanie was left on her own, to finish the patrol. For some reason, she was drawn towards the other parts of town that she knew very well were on Batman's route.

It didn't take her long to find the Dark Knight, or rather the son of the Dark Knight, since Bruce was mostly retired at this point. He had taken a bad injury apparently about a year ago and just wasn't as young as he used to be. Thus, Damian had stepped up while his father sat on the sidelines, still as difficult to please as ever, especially now in his age.

Tonight, she had arrived just in time it seemed as Damian was facing off with some of the Penguin's hires. Sometimes it amazed her that all the old villains were actually still in business. It was like they just didn't know what else to do with their lives.

Nightwing jumped into the fight, pulling out her escrima sticks and whacking the first goon she landed near.

"Get out of here, Nightwing!" she heard Damian growl and she was rather impressed with the deepness of his voice.

"I'm trying to help!" she replied, throwing a round house kick.

"Stephanie! Watch out!"

"Huh!?"

The bat hit hard on the back of her head, making her eyes water and her vision blur. The escrima sticks clattered to the ground. She stumbled across the rooftop of the abandoned building, wildly throwing punches and missing. The man kicked her and she fell.

And she happened to land on an old glass skylight.

One that completely shattered under the force of her falling weight.

_Oh, gravity …_

"Ow! Ahh! Fuck! Dammit! Owwww!"

She seemed to hit just about everything on the way down, bouncing off of ceiling beams and catwalks and pipes. Something may have snapped when she finally met the ground, which was thankfully covered in moderately cushioning sawdust. It still knocked the wind out of her.

Stars danced across her vision. She could still hear sounds of the fight as she closed her eyes.

"Stephanie? Can you hear me? Steph! Answer me, Brown!"

"No names in the field …" she gasped, squinting at the shadow hovering over her.

Damian growled and heaved her into his arms, easily carrying her out of the warehouse and to the car. Stephanie let her eyes close, her pounding head resting on his shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath again.

She didn't even realize she had dozed through the ride back to the Batcave until Damian was shaking her and calling her name.

"Brown, wake up! Stephanie!"

She blinked and slowly sat up on the cot in the medical bay.

Damian had already ridded himself of his cape and cowl and the top half of his uniform, left in just the leggings and a black tank. She swallowed nervously as she eyed the broadness of his shoulders.

"I need you to take off your costume. You have cuts all over from the broken glass."

"Trying to get me undressed again?" she teased weakly, pulling the top half of her costume over her head. When she threw it aside and met his eyes again, he had a strange look on his face.

Damian quickly busied himself with preparing the gauze and disinfectant to clean off all the small lacerations from the sharp pieces of glass piercing her uniform. "The rest too," he prompted, eyes just barely flickering to her again.

Stephanie swallowed a little nervously as she recalled the very tiny underwear she had for some reason chosen to wear under her suit tonight. It was bad enough to be just in her bra in front of him, especially when she remembered that he had a thing for…

_Focus, Steph! He's just trying to take care of your stupid injuries that you stupidly got because you stupidly couldn't handle yourself!_

She wiggled off the tights, revealing a violet colored thong.

When Damian looked over at her again, his eyes widened and he quickly cleared his throat before going to work on her cuts.

"That was stupid of you, Brown," he said darkly, concentrating on her back first and then her outer extremities, as though timid about getting too close to her body.

"You looked like you needed help," she grumbled, grimacing as the chemicals stung. "Ow! Is this necessary?"

"Yes," he replied curtly, now dabbing at her abdomen. He pressed some gauze bandages over the last of the scrapes, slowly rubbing out the creases in the tape. She didn't dare breathe as his hands lingered on her sides.

Then he quickly jumped away, going to another drawer and digging through it. He came back over and started shining a small penlight in her eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked, blinking and trying to pull away.

He grabbed her chin to hold her still, setting down the flashlight and studying her eyes intently. "I'm checking for signs of a concussion. Does your head hurt? Do you feel nauseous or sleepy?"

"Yes, no, and no."

Damian was still staring at her. His blue eyes were so clear and so pretty, and so intently focused on her own.

"You could have been seriously injured, Stephanie," he said quietly.

Even his mouth was pretty to watch form words. She didn't really comprehend what he was saying to her. Somewhere, a little devil on her shoulder was reminding her that he'd just turned eighteen.

"Stephanie …"

She went for it.

Placing a hand on the back of his neck, Steph pulled him firmly to her lips. Damian made some sort of mumbled noise of surprise, muffled against her mouth. She didn't let go.

He started to respond, kissing her back with youthful enthusiasm. His hands went back her waist, moving over her hips and he stepped closer, standing in between her legs.

His tongue was definitely in her mouth now and she was starting to wonder how exactly he had learned his techniques because even perfect genetics couldn't make up for practice making out. And wow, was she barely able to focus as she ran her fingers through his dark hair. She felt more than heard the low growl from his throat as she pressed her body closer.

He was all tall, strong muscles under her hands and she craved more skin. She pulled away just long enough to tug his shirt off.

His lips moved to her neck, sucking harshly at the sensitive spots along her throat.

"Oh, Dami," she moaned.

He suddenly tensed up and pulled back to look at her, as though realizing what was going on.

She really had never seen Damian Wayne look so lost before.

"Stephanie, I …"

She was still breathing heavily and way too turned on at this point to be changing her mind. And if the way his pants were bulging into her leg was any indication, he was nearing that point as well.

"Do you want this?" Stephanie asked in a low voice.

Damian closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, obviously trying to focus. "I want you so bad, Stephanie Brown…"

It sent shivers right down to her lower abdomen. Almost overnight he had turned into this dashing and sexy young man, who was still in some ways her little Damian and she would always feel that affection for him. But at the moment, it was pure lustful attraction that filled her as he stood before her, very half naked, very handsome, and very much wanting her.

She took his bottom lip between her teeth, gently biting and letting go after a moment. "Then have me," she whispered.

Before she could fully comprehend that he had taken her advice, he was already climbing onto the bed, pushing her back and pressing their mouths together again. His hands reached around her for the clasp of her bra and she arched into him as he fumbled with it.

Stephanie couldn't help but laugh a little. Damian was almost exactly like every other male in the world who was still inexperienced with removing women's undergarments.

"Didn't any of your brothers ever teach you how to do this?" she asked amusedly, reaching around to unhook the clasps before pulling the apparel off.

He scowled and almost looked like he might do his little "tt" sound until she pulled away the fabric and his eyes were immediately fixated on her breasts.

"You can touch," she invited, smirking up at him.

Hesitantly, he reached out, cupping one in his hand, fondling and exploring. A thumb caressed her nipple making her draw in a breath quickly as the sensation jolted through her. He was slow and meticulous with his ministrations, glancing up at her to seek her approval.

"Do you … do like this?"

She nodded, and then pulled his face down to her chest. He seemed to get the idea; she let out a moan when he started sucking.

His other hand was traveling down her body, dipping below her tiny underwear to find her heat. She gasped again as he started stroking, already so wet for him.

Slowly, but surely, he was pulling her apart with just his hands and mouth all over her body. And holy fuck, he hadn't even taken off his pants yet and she was already just this close from coming into his hand. Had he done this before? She had no idea.

"Damian, oh, god, yesss! Damian! Like that!" Stephanie reached for his pants, trying to undo the front but her fingers kept groping and the moans kept falling from her lips, uncontrollable. "Please, I need you …"

"Stephanie…" His voice rumbled against her skin before he pulled away to help her remove his black leggings. She whined a little at the lack of touch until he finally shimmied off the tights and was kneeling between her legs.

Perfect genetics indeed.

She was practically aching with need, gasping a little when he leaned over her again and brushed her leg. He was hesitant still, eyes searching her face, weary for any sign of disapproval.

Smiling softly, Stephanie pulled him into a sweet, reassuring kiss then slowly helped guide him in. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking it all in, adjusting to the new fullness before he started thrusting. He seemed to be pacing himself, driving her crazy with the slow rhythm.

"Oh! Damian! Oh! Go faster!"

He growled out her name in reply as he sped up, his hot mouth traveling all over her skin. The muscles of his back flexed under her gripping fingers. And wow was she really wondering how much Damian had done this before because his stamina was fucking amazing so far and he gave a little hip jerk at the end that hit her just at the right spot and he was sucking on that spot in the crook of her neck that made her moan.

"OHH!" She was wound up so impossibly tight, writhing and keening as she yearned for just a little more to send her over. The cot beneath them squeaked noisily as they fucked.

"Damian! OHH!"

Her cry echoed in the cavernous room as she finally found release and he quickly joined her, calling out her name one more time before giving out. The pleasure waved through her, relaxing and blissfully flooding her body.

They settled close on the small bed, catching their breath. Stephanie smiled over at him, tenderly kissing his shoulder and placing a hand on his chest. He snatched up her hand, kissing the back of it before lacing their fingers together.

"Steph, I …"

"Yes?"

"I really want to do that again," Damian admitted, looking sheepish. She even thought she detected a hint of a blush across his tanned cheeks.

With a smirk, Stephanie climbed on top of him, chest to chest and knees straddling his waist. "Me too," she said before kissing him soundly.

**********

She woke up smiling, not yet opening her eyes and just reveling in the warmth of his chest at her back and his arm around her waist. Behind her, Damian was still breathing evenly, having been thoroughly worn out. They fell asleep down in the cave, which was actually pretty chilly when you weren't busy making your own heat and only covered in a flimsy, shared bed sheet.

Stephanie shivered a little, turning slightly into the warm body next to her.

And then she wondered what exactly woke her up because they were definitely not above ground and her internal sleep clock had been so screwed up since she started night work again. Who knew what time it was? They really ought to get up and get dressed before someone found them.

Finally, she opened her eyes and yelped in surprise to see a tall, menacing figure standing over them. She felt Damian stir behind her.

Bruce had an unreadable expression on his face and his arms were folded across his chest. For several minutes he stared at the pair of them. Stephanie barely dared to breathe; thankful the sheet had at least been pulled up to her shoulders.

"Was there an injury last night?"

There was absolutely nothing teasing in his tone.

_Well, shit …_


	2. Chapter 2

“Stephanie? You’re here pretty early, especially after the late night you had,” said Barbara Gordon-Grayson, opening the door for the younger woman.

Stephanie blanched at her words.  _How does she know already?!_

“Is something wrong?”

“Nope.”

 

Of course she doesn’t know. It only just happened.

She followed Barbara into the kitchen where breakfast was on the table and a fresh pot of coffee was brewing. It seemed so light and warm in their kitchen, comforting.

“Cheesecake for breakfast?”

“You can criticize my food choices after you’ve been pregnant,” said the redhead dryly.

Stephanie choked on air as she recalled that they definitely had not used a condom last night.  _Oh, please, god, let my birth control not fail …_

“You sure you’re alright? Would you like some coffee?”

“Yeah, fine. And aren’t you not allowed caffeine?”

“It’s decaf.” Barbara pulled a slightly disgusted face. “I keep hoping for some sort of placebo effect but it’s just a sad cup of decaf coffee that no one really wants.”

“I’ll pick up something later,” said Stephanie distractedly, running a hand through her hair.

At the table, Barbara settled in to her cheesecake (she had sweet talked her husband into stopping at the Cheesecake Factory last night) and asked, “So how was patrol last night?”

“Good. Is Dick around?”

“He’s still sleeping. He had a late night. Why, did you want to talk to him?”

“No!”

“Stephanie, what’s the matter?”

It was perfectly timed; Barbara was just taking a drink of her icky decaf coffee when Stephanie blurted it out.

“I slept with Damian!”

“Pfffftt! What?” Barbara coughed, completely ignoring the fact that her key lime had been thoroughly sprayed with coffee. “Run that by me again?”

“I slept with Damian. Last night, in the infirmary in the cave. After he bandaged me up because I fell through a glass skylight,” Stephanie elaborated.

“Uh … well … when you say slept …?” It was like her brain was completely incapably of fully appreciating what the fuck Steph was telling her. Must be the damn coffee.

“I mean sex. I had sex with Damian Wayne in the Batcave,” she said, finally sitting down and putting her face into her hands.

“Uh, was it good?” Barbara asked blankly.

“Is that all you can say?!”

“I’m kind of still in shock here!”

“Arrgghhh! Yes. It was very good.”

“I just … what’s Bruce going to say …”

“Not much.”

“What do you mean?”

Stephanie sighed. “He found us. He just said get dressed and then he left. I left as soon as I could,” she said wearily. Luckily, the cave was always stocked with extra clean workout clothing so she had stolen sweats and hopped on the first bike she came across that was unmarked, high tailing it over here.

“You just left?”

“Hey now, he’s not my dad or my boss, for that matter. I don’t have to sit around and take judgment for sleeping with his son,” Stephanie pointed out snappishly.

“Calm down. No one is judging anyone,” said Barbara firmly. She was starting to get her brain functions back, slowly climbing over the initial shock. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Do I have to do anything?”

“Eventually. This is kind of a big deal, Steph. Was it his first time?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know? It wasn’t like his hymen broke.”

Barbara sighed. “Well how do you feel about him?”

“I don’t know! He’s Damian. I feel like I always have and then on top of that is the fact that he grew up and got really attractive,” she grumbled. “But’s he’s just still so … Damian.”

“Sometimes you think he’s still that twelve year old kid who won’t stop staring at your boobs?”

“Yeah.”

*****

She was eating cheese nachos (or something approximating them since it was just mostly cheese product melted onto stale chips) and drinking a diet zesti as she flipped through channels, trying to distract herself. It wasn’t even a zesti, it was a store bought brand that was three dollars cheaper. Even with Dick and Barbara offering to help her, she was still in the mindset of a poor starving grad student. At least this meal was a step up from ramen noodles.

Stephanie yawned, checking her watch again. It was late afternoon. She had spent most of the morning with Barbara but was no closer to working out her feelings or what she wanted to do next. And the pregnant woman was getting steadily more frustrated with her indecisiveness.

A knock on the door startled her and she had a bad feeling about who it might be. Her stomach turned (although it was probably the nachos) and her heart was pounding as she got up from the couch. She looked down at herself, pulling a face; great, she was wearing pajamas in the middle of the day. At least she had showered when she got home earlier.

Running a hand through her hair, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Damian was standing on her doorstep, looking somewhat sheepish and holding a black bag in one hand.

“Uh, come in,” said Stephanie, standing back.

They stood in her living room, eyes shyly flickering to each other and away again.

“You, uh, left a few things this morning.” He held up the bag to her and she felt her cheeks go red.

Yes, she had indeed left a few things. Like pieces of her costume. And her underwear. Stephanie took the bag and tossed it aside without even looking in it.

“My father says to remind you that the infirmary is for medical services only,” he said, a faint blush appearing across his face.

“Technically, you were patching me up,” she pointed out.

The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly and then he suddenly frowned in concern. “Are you feeling okay? You fell through a roof.”

“I’m fine, Damian.”

He stepped closer, putting a hand to her cheek.

“I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble.” It came out a lot flirtier than she intended.

The small smirk was back and it was just so Damian that it made her heart leap a little.

“Not at all.”

****

They ended up in her bed, much preferable to the squeaky old hospital cot in the cave. So much for talking about their feelings.

She was kneeling and he was behind her, holding her torso to his chest. His hands were splayed all over her front, cupping her breasts and reaching between her legs; his lips latched onto her neck. She reached over her shoulder, fingers clasping his hair.

Every thrust was close and tight and hitting in all the right places. And fuck, where did he learn all this. It was driving her crazy in the best way possible. The moans falling from her lips were getting louder and more frequent as he went faster.

“Oh! Damian! Oohh! More! Yes!”

Her voice went even higher and she cried out as all the tension released, flooding through her. He kept moving, thrusting even faster now. And she didn’t know what way was what; she just kept coming, barely registering that she was leaning over on her hands while he gripped her hips. She couldn’t see or think; it was just crashing waves of pleasure, making her high and dizzy. Until finally, with another hard thrust, he came and she felt it inside of her, with another small jolt.

She distantly heard him grunting her name. Her muscles were still spasming, her arms shaking weakly until she allowed herself to rest.

He collapsed next to her, panting heavily, eyes shut tight.

Stephanie watched him fondly as he settled. A part of her was still musing over the fact that she had Damian Wayne in her bed, spent from satisfying her so thoroughly.

Wasn’t it just yesterday that he was that awkward fourteen year old, blushing furiously as they waltzed around the room at Dick and Barbara’s wedding reception? Despite his embarrassment, he had been a very fine dancer, holding her close and just barely beginning to tower over her in height.

And now he was this gorgeous young man, looking at her sweetly, no, _adoringly_. His clear blue eyes swept all along her body; instead of feeling self-conscious, she felt wanted.

“What are you thinking?”

“Just remembering you.”

He frowned slightly. “You don’t still see me as a child, do you? Not after this …”

“Damian,” she said softly, moving closer and resting a hand on his broad chest. “You can claim credit for just giving me one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had. I do not see you as a child, I assure you.”

The smug smirk was just so typically Damian; she reached up to kiss it away from his lips. His arms went around her waist to pull her closer.  

“Hmmm…” When she pulled away, she caught him glancing over his shoulder at the alarm clock. “Going out tonight?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I wasn’t really supposed to stay this long,” he admitted.

“Why don’t you just go to sleep for a bit and I’ll set the alarm,” she decided, climbing over him to reach the bedside table. His hand moved to her back, keeping her in place; when she glanced down at him, his eyes were definitely not on hers.

She settled back on top of him when she was done.

“Just a little nap, so you aren’t too tired for patrol,” she murmured as he drew her closer.

“Right … not too tired …” he muttered between kisses.

Neither had actually gotten any sleeping done by the time the alarm went off.

Damian wildly reached over to turn off the alarm. “I’m not done with you yet,” he growled, squeezing her thigh that was hitched over his hip. She pulled him back down to her.

****

_He should have been back by now._

Bruce frowned out the window of his study as he recalled the very few words he’d shared earlier with his son. He honestly had no idea what to say. Damian was eighteen. But it wasn’t just any kid; this was  _Damian_.

“Alright, Bruce, this better be a real emergency. You know I have a pregnant wife at home.”

Bruce turned to see his eldest son barge into the study, looking somewhat disgruntled and tired. They were all quickly learning that they seriously took Oracle for granted now that Dick was substituting for her.

“It’s about Damian.”

Dick sighed and settled in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the desk. “I have a feeling you won’t stop asking me for parenting advice until Damian is in his thirties. I’d also like to point out that my actual first kid isn’t even born yet.”

“I found him in bed with a woman this morning.”

Whatever he had been expecting, that was far from it. He jaw dropped and Bruce nodded solemnly. Then he started laughing.

“That’s what you’re freaking out about? Damian having sex?”

“Dick, this is serious.”

“Bruce, we gave him the talk years ago. Remember? It was awkward for everyone involved.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about.”

“Then what? And who was he with?”

Bruce looked away again before finally saying, “Stephanie.”

“Oh … that’s probably why she was over this morning.”

“What did she say?” he asked sharply.

“I don’t know. She was talking to Barbara. I was asleep.”

Dick studied him, frowning at the conclusions he was starting to draw from his adoptive father’s distress.

“So, what? You’re upset that it was Stephanie Brown who stole poor Damian’s innocence?” Dick asked wryly. Lack of sleep plus a grumpy, pregnant wife was rubbing off on him and he really wasn’t in the mood to put up with Bruce’s judgmental temperaments. “Was he even a virgin?”

Bruce was silent, the crease in his forehead deepening slightly.

“You don’t know. Wow, really? Is that what it is? You didn’t call it? Which is kind of a surprise, really. I mean, it was pretty obvious what Damian’s type was.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s always photographed with curvy blondes at parties when he’s playing up the rich Wayne boy,” Dick pointed out, rolling his eyes.

“When they were younger I couldn’t help but notice the … parallels to you and Barbara …”

Dick couldn’t help but smile fondly at the memories. They were sweet recollections, but it was nothing compared to the present.

“Why did you choose Stephanie to be Nightwing?”

“So I could take over as Oracle so Babs could relax for the rest of the pregnancy.”

“No, Dick, why her?”

“She’s the logical choice. She has experience. We know she already works well with the rest of the team. And everyone else was busy,” Dick elaborated. “Also so she could reunite with Damian and make you uncomfortable about it.”

Bruce glared at the apparent sarcasm.

“You never gave her much of a chance, you know.”

“I made her Robin. And Batgirl.”

“Bruce, you and I both know that Batgirl was never yours to give out.”

He turned to the window again. “He should have been back by now.”

“Where is he?”

“At her house.”

Dick snorted with laughter. “Yeah, he’s definitely not going to be back for a while.” He stood up and stretched. “Listen, Bruce, this is good news. It means we succeeded.”

The older man raised an eyebrow.

“We managed to fully socialize Damian from an emotionally stunted ten year old assassin into an average teenage boy, following his heart. Or, you know, something besides his brain at the moment,” Dick said with a somewhat proud smile.

“Do you think he’s in love with her?”

“Sure, anything is possible. I’m leaving now. Actually, I should probably see if Alfred has any cookies I can take home for Babs. Then I’m leaving. Try not to be too hard on Damian. You know he gets embarrassed still about having feelings,” Dick advised as he backed out of the study.  “And be nice to Steph too. She is wearing my symbol out there, you know.”

Bruce grunted and turned back to the window, where the sky was darkening and he could just see two headlights at the end of the long driveway to the Manor. Damian had returned.

*****

Damian took his time kissing her goodbye at the door.

Stephanie was more than happy to keep him there as long as he kept kissing her like that, holding her tightly. Finally he pulled away, loosening his arms around her waist.

“So I’ll see you out tonight?”

“Most likely.”

His hands left her hips, fiddled slightly with the collar of his shirt as he cleared his throat again.

“I suppose at some point we’ll need to actually talk about this,” Stephanie commented lazily, swinging the end of the tie on her bathrobe.

“Right. Talk.”

“Not right now. We both have world saving to do tonight, remember? Now run along.”

“Good evening, Stephanie.”

His father was waiting for him in the study, conveniently in the way of the most direct route to the Batcave. He really should have thought of this and taken Alfred’s elevator from the kitchen.

“Father.”

“Damian.”

Bruce was seated in his desk regarding his son, taking in the messy hair and untucked shirt. Damian wasn’t normally a sloppy dresser.

“I was just going to get ready for patrol. Could you have Alfred bring me dinner?”

“Do you still want to be Batman?” Bruce asked suddenly.

Damian’s eyes widened slightly in panic. Was he going to take it away, his only dream in life, just over this thing with Stephanie? Why couldn’t he have both? Hadn’t Dick always told him that just because he was Bruce’s son didn’t mean he had to be Bruce? That he could love his father and his family but still build his own future?

“Yes, of course I do, Father.”

“Because if you aren’t a hundred percent focused-”

“I’m focused!”

“Having a relationship while doing this job is not easy.”

“I’m not going to wait until I’m your age to let myself be happy!”

It kind of slipped out and neither of them was quite sure what to make of what it really meant. They stared at each other for a little longer.

“I have to go,” Damian finally muttered, turning to the old grandfather clock and disappearing down the hidden staircase behind it.

“Bruce? Sweetheart?” a soft voice said from the doorway after knocking.

The tall, graceful woman glided over to the desk, perching on the edge and taking his hand. She smiled, almost amusedly, down at him.

He kissed the back of her hand.

“Diana …”


	3. Chapter 3

“They have to grow up sometime, you know,” said Diana softly.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at her.

“Your last bird is leaving the nest.”

“Damian still lives here. I don’t think he plans on leaving. The cave is here,” said Bruce. And he didn’t really want his son to leave. They lived in a mansion; it was definitely big enough for all of them.

“I meant figuratively. Your baby is growing up and falling in love. You’ve never done well with change,” she observed thoughtfully.

“Of course I have.”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow; then she leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t worry, Bruce. Soon Barbara will have her baby, Tim and Tam will start having kids, and the house will be full of children again,” she told him, standing up and heading for the door. Diana was the only one who would ever call him on it, on how he actually liked kids.

They had talked about it before.  _The_  subject. Kids. But Diana had grown to have such a unique connection with ones he already had, they decided not to try. The family he had was finally enough and he was at peace, mostly.

She paused at the doorway and said, “Don’t wait up too late tonight, love.”

“Why? Going to kick me out of bed if I wake you up again?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. For a princess, she could be very undiplomatic when her sleep was rudely interrupted.

“Yes. But I was also going to say that it’s highly unlikely Damian will be home tonight,” she said with a smirk.

******

“Definitely nicer than my digs,” Stephanie commented, peering around the penthouse apartment.

They had met up later on in the night near the WE building, so Damian had invited her inside. He stood a bit awkwardly by the sliding glass door that went out to the patio on the roof, watching her examine the spacious flat.

“It’s only really used these days for entertaining but there’s also a separate elevator to the bunker,” Damian explained.

“Right. I remember the bunker.”

She turned around to look at him and felt the awkwardness descend. And the sexual tension.

_Damn, he is filling the hell out of that costume…_

Was this how it was going to be? Were they just going to deal with whatever this was by fucking and then not dealing with it? Part of her was actually a little okay with the idea. The part that sinfully recalled that afternoon in her apartment.

“Damian …”

“Something to drink?” he asked, wandering over to the bar. It was straight from the book stalling.

“Do you even drink?” Stephanie couldn’t help but ask.

“Not often.”

“I don’t want anything,” she decided, settling on one of the fine leather couches. “Come sit down.” She patted the spot next to her, smiling slightly at him.

Both had been rid of masks upon stepping inside the apartment. She was glad that she could see his eyes, watch as they flickered down her body in an attempt to be sneaky about it. Damian sat down, leaning over to kiss her.

It was nice, not rushed; just his mouth gently moving against hers, a hand cupping her cheek. Stephanie reluctantly pulled away first.

What was she supposed to say? What did she even want from him? All she knew was that she didn’t want them to decide this was a mistake. She didn’t want him to back out. But all of her doubts kept plaguing the back of her mind, making her nervous.

“Stephanie, I’m glad you came back,” Damian said earnestly.

“I never really went far, you know. I didn’t even leave the city, until this year of course.”

“You wouldn’t have taken me seriously.” He was looking down, avoiding her eye.

She knew he was right. If fourteen year old Damian Wayne had showed up on her doorstep with the same intentions, she would have laughed him off and playfully told him she was too old for him. Stephanie hesitated then asked quietly, “Can I take you seriously now?”

It was as close as she dared to get to the big question about feelings.

“Let me take you out this weekend,” he said suddenly, looking up at her again.

She raised her eyebrows. “Trying to get into my pants again?”

Damian smirked. “Friday. I will pick you up at nineteen hundred.”

“Why can’t you say seven o’clock like a normal person?”

“Seven. Dress nicely.”

“You do realize that means you’ll be in public with me. People will see you with an older woman.”

“I am aware.” He was leaning closer again.

She put two fingers to his lips to stop him. “While I would love the idea of you ravishing me on this couch after a long night of patrol, I’m still running on fumes, especially after our little afternoon delight from earlier. Shall we just end the night on a high note?”

Damian raised an eyebrow at her and said, “Getting you naked again would be a high note.”

“Sleep, Damian. I can tell you need it too.”

He smiled slightly and then, in one fluid move, he scooped her up into his arms and stood up. “We can sleep here,” he said, carrying her down the hallway to one of the bedrooms.

“Perfect. I’m not going to wake up to Bruce finding us again, am I?” she asked as he set her on the bed.

“No, he rarely even comes into the office anymore.” He sat next to her, taking off his boots, then pulling the top half of his costume off.

She couldn’t contain the soft sigh at the sight of his bare chest and he looked up with a smirk. His body was so beautiful and chiseled and dear god, why the hell did he want her?

“You sure you just want to sleep?” he asked, looking entirely too smug. Stupid ass had always known how damn good looking he was.

“Brat,” she muttered, kicking off her own shoes and depositing loose pieces of her costume on the floor until she was undressed (this time in thankfully not ridiculously tiny underwear).

“Stephanie…”

She really liked the way her name rumbled through his soft, growling voice.

*****

She knew she had fallen asleep in his arms, but she definitely woke up drooling on her own pillow. They had forgotten to shut the blinds last night and the sunlight was right in her eyes. Stephanie yawned and looked over at Damian. A surge of affection rushed through her as she looked at his adorable, sleepy face.

She leaned over and started peppering his face with light kisses. It only took a few for him to stir, his eyebrow furrowing slightly in confusion.

“Titus, stop,” he muttered.

“Well, then,” she commented, raising an eyebrow. Nothing like your sort of new boyfriend calling you by his dog’s name in the morning.

His eyes opened immediately at the sound of her voice. “Stephanie. Sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean…”

She continued to look at him, disapprovingly.

“Sorry, I forgot we were here,” Damian insisted.

“Hmm, I might let you make it up to me…”

She was rolled onto her back as he moved on top of her.

“Good morning,” he said with a little smirk that drew her attention to his lips. Lips that he had better be planning on putting all over her body very soon.

“Good  _morning_ …” She trailed off when he started kissing her neck and down to her collar bone. His hands were already reaching around her back to unclasp her bra and toss the offending garment aside.

He was still in his pants from the night before but they were so form fitting, they didn’t conceal the strong muscles of his thighs or the growing hardness that pressed against her leg. Her hands roamed his warm skin, feeling the tight, flexing muscles, as he paid attention to her breasts.

“Oh, Damian …” she moaned, arching her back slightly.

His fingers found the waistband of her underwear, tugging them down sharply. She was already getting so wet for him, each of his caresses driving her crazy. She let out a small gasp when his fingers found her clit, pressing lightly. He was watching her intently, taking in every flicker of her expression his attentions evoked.

She opened her eyes and met his; he looked at her for a second, then slowly leaned closer and took a hesitant lick at her core.

“Ohhh …  _Damian!_ ”

Encouraged by her reaction, his tongue darted out again, and then again. And then his mouth was all over her and her fingers knotted in his hair to keep him in place. His lips closed over her clit, sucking and making her cry out.

“Stephanie …” The vibrations of his voice reverberated through her, tingling up her spine. “You taste incredible…”

He continued to eat her out, driving her almost to edge and teasingly pulling back once he got the hang of it. She was moaning and begging, squirming in his grasp, until finally he let her come. She was on a cloud, letting the pleasure rush through her with a loud cry of his name.

When she finally opened her eyes, he was leaning over her again, watching her with that same intently interested look.

“I … I like watching when you … it’s so … you just …”

Rarely was Damian Wayne so inarticulate.

“When I come. You like making me come and watching me enjoy it,” she said, catching her breath.

He nodded fervently.

She pulled him in for a kiss, murmuring, “I like it too…”  Palming him through his tight pants, she added, “Want me to take care of this?”

“Actually,” he replied between kisses, “I was thinking we should take a shower…”

“Even better idea …”

The shower was big enough to have a small party in; before the glass had even completely fogged up, he had her up against the wall, mouths and hips joined.

*******

Damian strode into the office confidently, barely tossing his father’s personal assistant a second glance. He had just gotten back from taking Stephanie home. The bunker had a separate exit, away from the main part of the building, so they could leave unseen.

“Father, I need to ask you something,” he began.

Bruce looked up from his desk, not too surprised that his son had just walked in without knocking but slightly annoyed all the same.

“Yes, Damian?”

They had not spoken since the other night and while it hadn’t quite been a fight, there were words and neither was quite sure how to proceed.

After several tense moments of silence, Bruce finally spoke again.

“What do you need son?”

Damian cleared his throat. “I am taking Stephanie out tomorrow night. On a … a date …” he announced, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “And you need somewhere to take her?” he guessed.

The younger man relaxed visibly. He could recall Dick and Tim and even sometimes Jason going to his father for tickets to all the various events and parties Bruce Wayne was invited to. No one could ever say that the ladies who got a date with one of the Wayne boys weren’t treated to a very nice night (although at this point, it was mostly just Barbara and Tam collecting those benefits).

“Yes, and dinner reservations as well.”

Bruce pressed the intercom on his desk, saying, “Janet, can you bring me the social calendar?”

“Right away, Mr. Wayne.”

The assistant appeared just moments later, planner in hand. She was older than the last secretary but kind and efficient. “What days are you looking for, Mr. Wayne?”

“Tomorrow night. My son will need tickets and dinner reservations, please.”

Janet turned to Damian with a smile. “Of course. What is your date interested in, Mr. Wayne? I have scheduled here a film premiere, art gallery, opera, ballet? Tomorrow is opening night of Swan Lake at the Gotham City Ballet. Closing night of Carmen. Opening of a new exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art…”

He froze, suddenly panicking. What did Stephanie like? He didn’t know what she wanted to go see. What would impress her the most? He knew she liked movies, but a film premiere would include posing for the press and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. And he knew that she had spent the last several months in Egypt, working on her doctorate in anthropology. Would she like an art gallery? He looked anxiously at his father.

“The ballet. My normal box seats will do. And make them a reservation at Nicola’s,” Bruce decided, wisely hiding his amusement at his son’s panic.

“Yes, that … that will be satisfactory,” Damian said with a short nod. “Thank you.”

“I’ll have the tickets ready for you tomorrow morning, Mr. Wayne,” she said with another comforting smile before leaving the office.

There was another awkward silence before Damian muttered, “Thank you, Father.” He started turning for the door.

“Damian.”

“Yes, Father?”

_You’re my son and I love you and I want you to be happy. And of course I approve of Stephanie. I’ve always known what she meant to you. She’s always been worthy. You’re just growing up so fast. Just yesterday you were Robin and I had to take away your sword after getting into a fight with Tim again …_

Diana would have told him to say what he really felt. And while he was getting better at expressing himself …

“Enjoy your date tomorrow night,” said Bruce. “Perhaps you should call Dick. He’ll want to know.”

_He’s better at this than I am._

“I will, thank you.”

He left the office without another word.


	4. Chapter 4

 

“So how was the big date last night?” Barbara asked, leading the way into the kitchen.

Stephanie tiredly trudged after her and collapsed into a chair.

“It was … a disaster, actually.”

Barbara looked over quickly, almost dropping the plate of pastries in surprise.

“A disaster? What happened?” she asked, pouring them both orange juice and settling across from her.

Stephanie sighed. “Well first he took me to dinner at this place called Nicolas.”

“Oh, I’ve been there. It’s really good.”

“It’s also really fancy. And I’m not like you guys. I don’t do fancy. I spent the last six months sleeping in tents and digging through dirt,” she pointed out, selecting a cinnamon roll from the plate. “Anyway, I had no idea what to order and nothing on the menu explained anything so I just felt all stupid and embarrassed for not knowing what to get…”

“Stephanie, one bad dinner doesn’t make a bad date,” said Barbara fairly.

“That wasn’t the worst. It was just so awkward! I don’t know how to talk to Damian Wayne, the rich socialite. And he barely said anything either!”

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best setting, but I’m sure he was nervous and wanted to impress you. And it’s not like you could talk about evening work in that setting.”

“It gets worse. Did you know that Damian recently broke up with a supermodel?”

“Uh, no …”

“Yeah, well neither did she and she was there up at the bar until she caught sight of her beau offering some blonde tart a piece of tiramisu,” she said, aggressively taking a bite of the roll.

“A supermodel? I know he’s been seen with plenty of women but I don’t think any of them were serious. Or supermodels…” Barbara said.

“She migh’ as well bin,” Stephanie said thickly, mouth full of cinnamon roll. She swallowed and added bitterly, “Tall and tan and blonde and big boobed. Ugh. And she was very upset that Dami hadn’t called her and then dared to show up with me. It was awful.”

“Oh, Stephanie, I’m sorry. What did he say about it?”

“Not much. He just asked her to leave, apologized for the interruption, then went back to dessert like it was no big deal. So I asked him, ‘Damian, are you seeing that girl?’ and he just said no, he’d just danced with her at a party once and he couldn’t even remember her name then he said something about to keep suspicion off him.”

“Well, it makes sense,” said Barbara fairly.

Stephanie frowned at her.

“I mean it makes sense that he would think that was a good idea for him to act that way too. You know how he looks up to Bruce.”

Stephanie sighed. “I’ve just been so out of touch with this whole family. I don’t think I know what I’m getting myself into anymore.”

“What happened next?”

“The Gotham Ballet, opening night of Swan Lake.”

Barbara smiled. “I love when they do that one. It was always my favorite.”

She felt bad for admitting it, knowing that Barbara used to be a ballerina, but Stephanie reluctantly said, “Yeah, it wasn’t really my thing. It was boring. I fell asleep on his shoulder.”

“Stephanie!”

“Sorry! I tried! But that isn’t even the worst part!”

“Worst part of what?” Dick had finally waltzed into the kitchen, still in pajamas and scruffy faced. He frowned slightly at the pair of them then guessed, “Seeing as you’re here instead of having breakfast with my little brother, I take it the date didn’t go well?”

“I’m not starting over from the beginning,” said Stephanie flatly.

“Fair enough. Ooh, are those cinnamon rolls?”

“Shush, Dick,” Barbara told him as he sat down and took a bite of one.

“Sorry, Sweethear’. And good morning,” he added, planting a sticky kiss on her cheek. The redhead reluctantly smiled fondly at him, wiping the frosting off her face.

“If you two are done …” Stephanie muttered, rolling her eyes. They were disgustingly adorable in front of her and her problems.

“Go on, Stephanie. So you didn’t care for the ballet,” said Barbara.

“Well, intermission came along so I left to use the ladies room and when I get back, Damian is standing in the hallway with all the other rich people with box seats, surrounded by three other girls, all giggling and touching his arm and ughh. He didn’t do anything about it so I just went inside and sat down again and waited for the rest of the show to start. And basically everything kind of sucked.”

Barbara and Dick glanced at each other as she finished the story.

“Listen, Stephanie, the thing is about those society people-”

“Richard, don’t you dare try to excuse that boy’s appalling behavior,” Barbara cut in swiftly.

“I wasn’t! But you see, ever since he started being Batman, he’s been trying to take on a similar persona to what Bruce did, using his status as a billionaire’s heir to mask anyone suspecting him. So he’s been kind of running in a lot those socialite circles recently. But I know he’s not serious about any of them,” Dick elaborated.

“Well obviously he didn’t make that very clear to Stephanie.”

“It’s been all over the tabloids, Babs. How much clearer can you get?”

“She’s been out of the country for the past six months!”

“She’s also right here,” Stephanie interjected dryly, selecting a second cinnamon roll to devour.

“Look, Steph, I still get flirted with when we’re at Bruce’s parties,” Dick said off handedly.

Stephanie looked at Barbara and said, “And I suppose you’re going to tell me you had some sort of epiphany and it doesn’t bother you anymore?”

“No, it still bothers the hell out of me. And every time I’m just this much closer to tattooing ‘Property of Barbara Gordon’ across his ass,” she said dryly.

“Honey, I keep telling you that wouldn’t work. No one else would see it but you,” he pointed out.

“Filed under: things I didn’t need to hear,” said Stephanie, shaking her head.

“Do you want me to talk to Damian for you?” Dick asked kindly. “He probably doesn’t realize exactly what went wrong. Boys can be stupid when we’re in love.”

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, mouth too full of cinnamon roll to reply right away. Trust Dick to be the one to start throwing around the L word in someone else’s relationship.

“No, Sweetie, actually, I need you to scan all the gossip sites for any possible pictures of them from last night. Remember, I showed you that algorithm last week for searching for pictures?” Barbara said. “And make sure they disappear.”

“Yeah, no problem. I can do that,” he said, standing up and grabbing another roll and a glass of juice before leaving.

“And don’t you dare make a sticky mess all over my keyboard!” she called after him.

Stephanie sighed. “I shouldn’t have slept with him in the first place.”

“Do you mean that?”

“… Not really. I don’t actually regret that part. But it did start a huge mess of things.”

They fell silent, Stephanie licking the frosting off her fingers and Barbara leaning back with a hand on her growing abdomen, a far off look on her face.

“Stephanie, I’m sorry things aren’t working out the way they should.”

The blonde sighed again. “I’ve had bad dates before, Barbara. With guys who were losers who I thought actually liked me and I learned pretty quickly to default to the mindset that they probably don’t. I don’t think I’ve had a decent relationship since I was a teenager. But this …”

“It was supposed to be different,” she finished for her.

“Yeah, I fell for it again. The blue eyes and the broad shoulders … he didn’t even kiss me goodnight…” There was a lump in her throat that she attempted to wash down with more orange juice.

“For what it’s worth, Damian has really matured in the four years you’ve been gone.”

“Yes, I’m very well aware of that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I mean emotionally. But he still has things to learn and I don’t recall a Stephanie Brown that let him get away shit when he was a kid.”

“Why do I always have to fix things?”

“Because sometimes, men just screw things up,” said Barbara wisely.

There was a pause and then Dick was calling from the other room, “Honey, can you come here for a second?”

“Excellent timing as always,” she said, smiling fondly.

“You two are gross,” Stephanie observed.

“Well then I hope one day you and Damian are just gross. Now go tell him what you expect from him. Not a half-assed ‘I got these tickets from Bruce’ kind of date, something real,” the older woman declared, wheeling away from the table and heading for the doorway.

“But-”

“Stephanie, since when do you give up? Exactly, you don’t, you never have. You always make me proud.”

Now that lump in her throat was suddenly accompanied with watery eyes. Damn. Nightwing isn’t supposed to cry.

“Babs!”

“Coming! Now get going, Steph!”

*****

She had been feeling so pumped and empowered after Barbara’s pep talk. But as she neared the Manor, her stomach was starting to turn and she suspected it wasn’t just the winding roads out of the city.

_Alright Brown, you can do this. You’re going to march in there, sit that boy down and tell him what’s what. And you are not going to be distracted, dammit!_

Before Stephanie even had a chance to ring the doorbell and run, Alfred was opening the door and inviting her inside.

“Miss Stephanie. What can I do for you?”

“Hey, Alfred. Uh, is Damian home?” She felt her cheeks go red.

“Master Damian is downstairs training, I believe.”

“Right, well, maybe I shouldn’t interrupt,” she said quickly, turning back towards the door.

The butler slid in front of her, blocking the way.

“I’m not getting out of this, am I.”

“Miss Barbara phoned ahead and said to expect you. If you need anything, I will be vacuuming in the East Wing,” he said, now guiding her to the study and the entrance to the Cave.

She found him in one of the training rooms, practicing with a wooden sword, smoothly going through the steps of a kata. He was concentrating hard; she could see the faint glisten of sweat on his forehead and on his back (he was way too shirtless for her comfort). Step, swing, lunge, sweep, turn. It was mesmerizing to just watch him move, watch how his perfect body performed each part effortlessly.

Stephanie closed her eyes, attempting to get to her bearings. No distractions.

She found another practice sword and stepped onto the mat. She was almost five feet away from him when he suddenly whirled around, swinging at her. On instinct, she met his swing, dodging out of the way as the sticks clanged together.

“Stephanie? What are you doing here?” Damian asked, bewildered.

“Apparently, I’m sword fighting,” she answered dryly, regaining her footing and holding up the wooden sword.

He stared at her curiously for a few seconds before getting back into a fighting stance and nodding slightly.

She lunged, swinging hard. He easily deflected and moved out of the way.

“Too obvious, Brown!” His voice had regained a bit of its sneer.

She gritted her teeth in frustration, getting back into position and trying to recall the tiny bit of stick fighting she had ever learned. She attacked again.

He was easily parrying and deflecting, sometimes feeding back a few swings or thrusts for her to dodge. But she could tell he was just toying, that she wasn’t even having an effect on him.

And then suddenly he was pressing in harder and faster. And she didn’t realize she was sweating until it was running in her eyes and making her hand feel slippery on the handle. Her knuckles were white as she tightened her grip.

He pressed the advantage, getting into her space at every turn. She tried to defend aggressively, smartly, but everything she’d learned about a sword was from the young man in front of her. For just a second, it was the snotty little thirteen year old smirking as he successfully disarmed her, twisting her elbow and making her spin around.

He was behind her now and she didn’t know how that had happened, with his arms around her at the neck at waist. Breathing heavily in her ear, he had her trapped.

“Brown?” he growled and it made her shiver involuntarily.

“Damian…” She grasped the arm about her neck, turning her head slightly towards him.

They paused; she stopped struggling. His breath was hot on her neck; the hand on her stomach practically burning through her shirt.

“Stephanie.” His lips brushed her ear as he spoke. The sword clattered to the floor.

His body was so solid and warm, pressed against her back. She couldn’t think. She wanted to turn around and … and … do something …

“Ohh…” His mouth had touched her skin, right under her earlobe, sending jolts of electricity through her body. On instinct, her hips jutted out, pressing her ass to his pelvis.

_Oh._

She wasn’t the only one suddenly insanely turned on at the moment.

He was definitely sucking harshly on her neck, sure to leave a mark later. And the arm around her neck had lowered and his hand was now at her breast. He squeezed, eliciting a small gasp from her. The other hand slipped into the waistband of her jeans, impossibly hot on the skin of her hip.

“Steph …”

The growl of her name rumbled through his broad chest. She wanted nothing more than for him to take her right there on the training room floor, ached for him after so many days absence.

So many days … like last night …

Stephanie blinked, suddenly remembering the reason why she was here in the first place. Rougher than probably necessary, she pulled herself from his embrace.

“We need to talk about last night.”

His mouth was slightly open in confusion and she resisted the temptation to stare at his lips. Then the corner of his mouth quirked up in comprehension.

“Stephanie, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. I’m not offended that you thought it was boring. I’m sure I can find something more enjoyable for next weekend,” he said, now smiling slightly.

_What?_

“Damian … I’m not trying to apologize for falling asleep on you at the ballet. I’m waiting for you to explain yourself!”

“Regarding what?” He raised an eyebrow.

_Don’t look at his abs, don’t look at his … abs … mmm…_

Stephanie turned slightly, trying to avoid staring at his shirtless torso, muscles shining with sweat from his workout. This was really starting to turn into a problem.

“Regarding all of your other girlfriends who seemed to make an appearance on our date last night! At the restaurant, then at the theater! And don’t think I didn’t notice you seem to have a type!”

“Stephanie, what are you talking about? Am I not allowed to speak to people?” he asked, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

“I’m talking about the fact that you seem to be more interested in your giggling group of blondes than the person you were taking on a date!”

“Brown, that is simply untrue,” he said loftily. “Also, you are a blonde too.”

 “Yeah, but my breasts are real,” she muttered derisively. She watched his eyes flicker down and back up quickly. Folding her arms across her chest, she shot him a glare and added, “If it had just been the awkwardness at dinner … I can handle awkwardness …”

“Stephanie … you are not as easy to date as other women,” Damian said slowly.

Her heart sunk and her face felt hot with embarrassment.  _Great, now I’m more high maintenance than some socialite Barbie doll hanging off his every word…_

“You don’t let me get away with much. How you make me feel is … challenging… I am not wording this right.” He helplessly put a hand to the back of his neck, staring around the cave for inspiration. “I don’t know how to impress you.”

“When I asked if I could take you seriously, you avoided the question by asking me out. But I need to know, Damian. I’m too old to have to put up with this crap anymore. I want something real. If you want to know how to impress me, make a grown up decision about whether I’m just another blonde on your arm or not,” she finished, turning and striding out of the room.

“Stephanie! Wait!”

She paused at the doorway and said wearily, “Take your time. I’m stuck in Gotham until Barbara has her baby anyway. I made a promise.” Then she left.


	5. Chapter 5

_“When I asked if I could take you seriously, you avoided the question by asking me out. But I need to know, Damian. I’m too old to have to put up with this crap anymore. I want something real. If you want to know how to impress me, make a grown up decision about whether I’m just another blonde on your arm or not,” she finished, turning and striding out of the room._

_“Stephanie! Wait!”_

_She paused at the doorway and said wearily, “Take your time. I’m stuck in Gotham until Barbara has her baby anyway. I made a promise.” Then she left._

 ***

“It would seem I have a problem you could help me with, Grayson.”

Dick sighed and without looking away from the screen, said, “Good to see you too, little brother.”

Damian had taken it upon himself to make his way into Oracle’s office, forcefully. If Barbara were still there, she’d probably have his head. As it were, his pregnant wife was on the third floor of their tower apartment suite, hopefully sleeping.

“Listen, I really am glad you’re here, but just use the doorbell next time. Barbara needs to rest and I don’t want her having to get up because I wasn’t able to disarm the alarm system quick enough,” he said, finally turning his chair around to look at his brother.

Not too long ago, Damian might have turned up his nose disdainfully but tonight, he looked surprisingly abashed and even nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking at his shoes.

“It’s okay. What do you need?” Dick asked patiently. It really was only a matter of time before he expected to see the eighteen year old coming to him for advice.

“Stephanie…”

“Ah, I see.”

“Do not laugh, Richard!”

“I’m not laughing, I promise. I want to help,” said Dick, barely letting the corners of his mouth turn up.

“She doesn’t think I’m serious about her. I know I’ve had to build somewhat of a reputation to match Father’s but that seems to be … unhelpful.” Damian looked legitimately confused about this.

“Well, yeah, what did you expect?”

“I am a catch, Grayson. I have several women interested in me, perfectly well suited to be my mate,” he said, now pacing before him. “Stephanie should be flattered that I want her.”

Dick painfully resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They had gotten the worst of Damian’s elitism out of him years ago. And then he started to like girls a lot and realized they liked him a lot and it tended to rear its ugly head again at his worst moments.

“Stephanie is a woman you care about, not a conquest,” the older man said.

“Is she not still asking me to win her over?” Damian scoffed.

“Listen, I know it’s easy to fall back on that Wayne Boys reputation. I know I did sometimes too.  But Damian, if you are serious, then it’s time to abandon the game. Bruce did when he got serious with Diana. No one batted an eye, even when he married Wonder Woman.”

“Then what should I do?”

Dick leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “You have to do something for her, something to show you’re serious about wanting a relationship with her, a real one. You do want to be with Stephanie, right?”

“Yes, of course! That’s what we’re talking about, Richard!” Damian snapped.

“You need to show her. Make the effort. Do something romantic for her,” Dick suggested, smiling.

“Like what?”

Ah yes, this was definitely his area of expertise: romance. Dick grinned. “There’s plenty of stuff, little brother! Take her on a romantic date-”

“I did that! She didn’t like it! I took her on a perfectly good date and she hated it.”

“Okay, how about instead of following a formula on how to impress girls, how about you figure out what will impress Stephanie. And do it big. A beautiful, grandiose, romantic gesture that comes from the heart and shows you care and paid attention,” he said, as though it were completely obvious.

“Again, like what?” Damian asked impatiently.

“You could make her something. Like dinner. Or write her a poem. Or give her a thoughtful gift. You know, Barbara loves it when I bring home her favorite flowers, pink roses. It shows I love her and paid attention to something she liked.”

Damian nodded slowly, a look of intense concentration on his face. “Right … flowers …”

“Got it?”            

“I think so … Thank you, Dick.”

He grinned again. “You’re welcome. Now get to work.”

The eighteen year old left, still obviously thinking hard about all the advice his older brother had given him. Just as Dick was turning back to the computer screen to get back to work, he heard a soft humming of approval.

“That was sweet,” said Barbara, wheeling up beside his chair.

“Honey, you should be sleeping,” he said, leaning over to kiss her, putting a hand on her growing belly. Despite how tired and worried he was, seeing her pregnant still made him unbelievably happy.

“Carrying a little acrobat, you know. He keeps me up,” she said with a tired smile. “And I wanted to confess…”

“Confess what, babe?” he asked, returning her smile, linking their fingers together across her stomach.

“Pink roses aren’t my favorite flowers.”

“What?” The smile faded into a look of stunned shock. “But … but you always seemed to like them…”

“Well you seemed to love giving them to me. It made you happy and it was a sweet gesture. Just not my favorite flower,” Barbara explained.

“Four years of marriage and I don’t know my wife’s favorite flower?”

“Dick, honey, it’s not a big deal. They’re just flowers. I love you all the time, not just when you bring me gifts.”

He looked so disappointed, staring past her, obviously recalling every time he had brought her the wrong kind of flowers.

“I guess… I never did actually ask you what your favorite is.”

Barbara smiled and kissed his cheek. “Snapdragons are my favorite.”

***

“Girl, what happened here?”

Stephanie slowly turned around in the purple forest that had become her apartment. It looked like every single flower in the city and surrounding metro area, from violet to indigo, was now taking up residence in her living room. Helplessly, she looked at the younger girl, who had wandered into the front door she carelessly left open in shock, clutching handfuls of bouquets.

“Steph, what happened? Take up a sudden interest in … floral design?” asked Nell, idly leaning over to take a whiff of a particularly fragrant bunch.

Vases, bouquets, and even loose flowers covered every inch of the place. Some of the arrangements appeared to come with cards and chocolates and balloons.

“I think they’re from Damian,” said Stephanie, eyes still wide with shock.

“Damian Wayne?”

She nodded slowly, still unsure whether to be pleasantly surprised or just … surprised.

“What exactly prompted this bold display?”

“I … I told him he needed to decide if he was serious about me.”

“Well, nothing says serious like four thousand flowers and a foil balloon teddy bear,” said Nell, holding up the offending item with a smirk.

“Is … Is he for real? He just buys every flower in the damn city and has them delivered to my apartment while I’m gone?”

“Come on, Steph. It’s kinda sweet,” said Nell fairly, inspecting a few of the cards. “’Your natural hair color is quite fetching.’ … ‘I have learned to appreciate your wit.’ … ’Your round-house kick is more than adequate.’ Well that’s very romantic…”

Stephanie groaned and sank to her knees.

“What were you expecting?” Nell asked. “You asked him to impress you, right?”

“I was expecting an apology, maybe one of these!” she said, shaking a handful of flowers. “I asked for confirmation of how he feels!”

“Maybe he’s just trying to get your attention.”

“Well he’s got it …” Steph said.

“I’m sure he thought you’d like this, Stephanie.”

“What do I do?”

“Go to him!” Nell encouraged, smiling slightly.

 “Yeah … I can’t let him pull shit like this and expect everything to be better,” Stephanie clambered to her feet, throwing the bouquets to the floor. “Yeah! I have to … I have to go …” She kicked aside stray flowers on her way to the front door, still looking overwhelmed.

“Wait! I didn’t mean …” Nell sighed as the other girl left. She then snatched up a box of chocolates. “Don’t think she’ll miss these too much…”

***

She opened the door swiftly, but Damian didn’t seem to notice her as he finished dressing in front of his full length mirror. She quickly slammed the door, making him spun to face the intrusion.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

On the drive over to the Manor, Stephanie had managed to work herself up into a towering rage. Who did he think he was? Pulling some sort of ridiculous stunt like filling her apartment with flowers? Did he have any idea how long it would take to clean up?

Although the new waffle iron was kind of a nice touch.

_Focus! It was a stupid, grandiose gesture just to get my attention._

“You received my flowers?” he asked calmly, raising an eyebrow as he finished buttoning up his shirt.

“Yes! And I can’t believe you think you can just win me over with some sneaky move straight out of a movie!”

Damian frowned. “Brown, you are being impossible. I thought you would appreciate the effort.”

“I’m impossible!? MY APARTMENT IS OVERFLOWING WITH PLANTS!”

“You’re the one who wanted to be impressed!”

“I wanted to know that you’re serious about us!”

“Move in with me,” Damian said calmly.

“Wha-What?”

“Come live with me, in the apartment downtown,” he repeated, taking a few steps towards her. “How’s that for serious?”

Stephanie probably could have reasonably gotten over the ridiculousness of the flowers and even come to see how actually thoughtful was his gesture.

And then he dropped this bomb on her.

“You can’t just … you can’t just give a woman flowers and expect her to move in with you!” Her voice had risen as the request really started to sink in. God how she didn’t want to fall for it again. “I’m not even your girlfriend!”

“Brown, you  _are_  going to be my girlfriend when you’re living with me,” he said with a hint of growing frustration. This was not going the way he imagined, the way Grayson assured him it would. “Did you not like the apartment? We can have it redecorated.”

“It’s not about decorations! You do realize a girlfriend isn’t just a girl you live with, right?!”

“Of course!” he snapped. “I’ve had girlfriends before, Brown!”

She looked murderous.

“None were ever so difficult and frustrating! Why can’t you just do this right?! I did everything right! Did you even notice the flowers were all purple?”

“Welhelhelhellll, I am sooooooooo sorry for not making things easier for Damian Wayne to charm his way into my heart! I’m guessing you even had someone write out all the terrible compliments on each card,” Stephanie said with a disdainful eye roll.

Damian frowned at her. “What cards … the ones for the bouquets? It just said add a message so I did.”

“… You wrote them?”

“Yes. But they came with the flowers. Which are all your favorite color! I had to go to every florist in the city!” He couldn’t understand why she was suddenly caught up on the cards. It was the florists and bouquet designers who suggested he write something on each card. So he did.

“I don’t need four thousand purple flowers in my apartment!” She was back to yelling again, hands on her hips and leaning forward a little.

“Then come live in my apartment!” He tried so hard not to look down but he did. And he was instantly rewarded with sight of her heaving chest.

“Hey! Eyes up here! We’re not done!” she snapped, stepping even closer to him.

Moving closer probably wasn’t the best way to get him to stop staring at her cleavage though.

“Living together is a big deal! It’s not a decision you make lightly!” she said.

“And I told you I am serious, Stephanie!” he said, finally managing to look up at her eyes.

She was so angry and confused but oh the way he said her name made her insides fill with heat. He towered over her, the top two buttons of his shirt still undone and tips of his hair damp and sticking up.

“You can’t just wave your hands and buy your way out of feelings, Damian! This isn’t supposed to be easy!”

“Well it doesn’t have to be so hard! I want you! You want me! Why are you going on about this!?”

And he smelled amazing, like fresh out of the shower. Her traitorous brain brought up the memories of having him in bed.

“Because you don’t get it!”

“What more do you want from me, Stephanie!?” he cried, hands outstretched in an almost pleading gesture.

The warmth burned into a slow heat low in her abdomen as she remembered his lean body over hers, his lips on her skin…

 _Stop, you’re mad at him_ , she ordered. It wasn’t helping.

“You! The real you, not Damian Wayne the playboy flirt! I need to know what you feel about me!”

“I …” he stalled. How could he possibly describe that? How he felt about Stephanie… it just was and always had been. And it was something he had never been forced to think about until she started to suddenly take him seriously.  

She watched him struggle to think of what to say and her heart sank a little when the words didn’t immediately roll off his tongue. Then he looked determinedly at her before swooping down and kissing her hard.

Large hands held her in place at the hip while his mouth pressed harshly on hers. It wasn’t gentle or even playful; just urgent and demanding. And hot.

And also over before it could even really begin.

Damian pulled back, letting go of her waist and even taking a step back. He eyed her wearily. Her hand was already rising, prepared to slap him for that move. It only turned her on and confused her more.

 _Screw it_ , Stephanie thought to herself,  _we can talk later_.

And she jumped into his arms.

He held her up with her legs wrapped around his waist, kissing fiercely as he managed to carry her to the bed. She pulled him right with her as she fell back onto the sheets.

A moan escaped her when his mouth found her neck and his hands slipped up inside her shirt. Damian pulled away just long enough to tear away the soft knit of her tee shirt. Stephanie glared at the pieces of her top and reached up to grip the opening of his collar. She pulled his own shirt open, popping buttons off much to his annoyance.

He finished tugging it off, and then seized her hands, pinning them down on either side of her body. His mouth went right to her skin again, searing hot kisses along her throat and collar bone, down her chest.

“Damian …” she whined, arching her back. His hands slipped under to undo her bra.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands grasped at his hair, all while his tongue and hands pressed eagerly on her breasts. That mouth was quickly learning just what made her moan without thought.

Stephanie could feel the heat gathering low with each laborious suck of her nipples, each tortuously slow lick around that sensitive skin. Craving more sensation, she tried grinding her hips up against his body. The vibrations of his groaning made her gasp.

“Fuck, Stephanie,” he growled into her sternum.

He pulled away from her chest only to redirect his energies towards pulling off her jeans, quickly followed by a very plain pair of underwear.                                              

“Ohhhhh…” she cried out when he dove right in.

His arms wrapped around her thighs, pulling them apart even further for better access as he hungrily licked up her core. The way she panted and writhed, gripped his head tightly when his tongue pressed on her throbbing clit, made him so hard.

She felt so close, felt all the little muscles tensing up low in her abdomen. Just one more flick of his tongue and she was rocking her hips up towards his face, her voice going up several octaves and her back arching.

“Ohh … oh god, Damian …” she panted. Eyes still closed as she tried to soak up the last bit of bliss, she distantly heard a belt buckle and the rustling of more clothes hitting the floor. And his faint snort of satisfaction at how dazed she suddenly was.

_Oh no you don’t …_

Damian climbed on top of her, pressing an open mouthed kiss on her lips. Steph locked her legs around his hips again, heels digging into his lower back as she guided his cock inside her. He let out a sighing sort of moan, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly.

She gave him just a few moments to get his bearings and before he could even consider pulling back to start thrusting, she rolled him over so she was on top. His eyes widened slightly in surprise; he was not expecting that. She smirked, rocking her hips and running her fingers down his chest and abs.

His hands hesitantly went to her hips, guiding as she slid up and down on his cock. She set the pace just fast enough so her breasts caught his attention with their movement.

High off his amazement of her riding him, she tossed back her hair and picked up the pace. “Ohh, yess…” Steph moaned when his hips thrust up to meet her.

It felt so fucking good to just let go and focus on how he filled her so perfectly, how his sculpted body was so warm beneath her hands. She went faster, sliding up and down on him, whimpering moans escaping her throat with the increase of friction and each matching movement of his hips. Her insides were coiled so tight, making her so anxious, so ready for that sweet release.

“Steph…” he groaned. With a few more impatient thrusts, he was coming inside her, the feeling making her come right along with him. Her inner muscles pulsed and squeezed him as she blindly rode through their orgasms, only slowing as she came down, exhaling a satisfied moan.

It took a few moments to get the motivation to pull off of him because damn, did it feel good. She collapsed onto the bed, still breathing heavily as she slipped her feet under the bed sheet. He did the same, careful not to touch her as he slid under the covers as well.

The bed was big enough that they could lie comfortably some distance apart.

Stephanie stared up at the ceiling as her breathing returned to normal.

_Well, now what?_


	6. Chapter 6

 

She slipped out of the huge bed quietly, tiptoeing around the room and gathering up her clothes. Damian had made her shirt basically unwearable last night so she had no choice but to take the time to borrow one of his.

He shifted slightly when she opened a drawer, making her freeze. But he continued snoring, so she thought it was safe to select a shirt. And then Stephanie was off, opening the door just enough to slide out of the bedroom.

It was still early in the morning. The mansion had a cold, dark, empty feeling as she hurried down the hallway to the stairs. Distantly, she heard another door close, making her pick up the pace. She really needed to get out of this habit of running after sleeping with Damian. But she just couldn’t face him this morning, right now.

The sound of the cranky old engine in her car made her cringe but at least it started and she could leave. And it was just early enough in the morning to beat the worst of the traffic into the city.

Nell (bless her) must have organized all the flowers and gifts while she was gone. The loose flowers had been swept up and the cards were all in a pile on her coffee table when she finally reached her apartment.

Stephanie kicked off her shoes and sank onto the couch, opening a spare box of chocolates.

_What a wholesome breakfast, Brown…_

And then she studied the pile of cards in front of her.

Damian had said last night that he had written everything on them.

“Well, might as well see what he came up with…”

There were a lot of cards. Stephanie finished the chocolates before she finished reading all of them. And it didn’t help that sometimes she had to stop and reread and catch her breath.

_“We should be together.”_

_“You taught me how to hope.”_

_“I can’t stop thinking about you.”_

_“You chose this life to defy expectations and I will always admire that.”_

_“You are beautiful.”_

_“I want to be a better person for you.”_

_“I love giving you pleasure more than anything.”_

“Wow, that was kinda … personal. Did Nell read all of these?” she wondered.

_“I adore going down on you. You taste better than any delicacy.”_

“Oh god, did she read these?”

_“I love the way you moan my name in bed.”_

There were several more racy cards towards the bottom of the stack, making her stop and blush and maybe take a walk around the room for fresh air as she recalled exactly what he was referring to. She had to admit, they were pretty phenomenal in bed together.

The last card was an invitation to the charity gala this weekend. Stephanie bit her lip and stared at the card. She could just ignore it. Maybe even pretend she hadn't seen it in the sea of cards. It wouldn’t be the first Wayne party she had missed.

“Who are you even trying to kid, Steph?” she asked herself.

She stood up and paced a few times, trying to think of a decent enough excuse to back out of this one party. About to give up, a small square of white caught her eye. A stray card Nell had missed in her sweep poked out from under the couch.

Stephanie picked it up and opened it, idly wondering what was really left for him to comment on at this point.

“Oh …”

She stared at the loopy handwriting, all too nice for a normal eighteen year old.

“Oh, Damian …”

***

* * *

 

Walking around the room got old quickly, Stephanie decided as she watched all the happy couples at the party. Dick and Barbara were charming a crowd impressed with how much her belly had grown; Tim and Tam were already dancing. Bruce was laughing with a group of other stuffy looking rich people.

Earlier that evening, she had thrown on one of the few nicer dresses she still owned, kept only because it had pockets and was her favorite color. Tonight, the card that had changed her mind was in her right pocket and she couldn’t help but absently pat it as she wandered around the ballroom.

“Stephanie."

“Eeep!” The blonde turned slowly, the anxiety in her stomach creeping up almost full force as she saw none other than Wonder Woman behind her. _Here we go_ …

"I missed you last time you were at the Manor," the Amazon warrior woman said.

“Uh, hi…” she said, hating how squeaky her voice suddenly sounded.

Oh, she so did not want to do this right now. Not only was this Wonder Woman, but this was Damian’s step mother (that had not been a wedding she was invited to, by the way).

“You know you may call me Diana, right?”

At least she seemed to be smiling at the younger woman instead of the usual disapproving looks she felt like she was getting from this crowd.

“Right, of course. Diana.” It sounded so strange to be addressing her so casually. But she really didn’t have time to be so star struck and nervous around one of her heroes. Not when she had to fix things with Damian, to let him know that she did see exactly what he was trying to do.

_Pull it together, Brown._

“Have you seen Damian?” Stephanie asked, squaring her shoulders slightly. The little card practically burned in her pocket.

“No, not since the beginning of the party. I don’t think he’s here anymore. You could try the study. He’s been spending a lot of time there lately.”

The look Diana gave her made her wonder if by study she actually meant Batcave. In any case, it was still a good place to start with her search of the mansion.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Good luck,” Diana replied, smiling and putting a hand to her shoulder in comfort. “The men in this family need a strong willed woman. I know you’re up to the task, sister.”

Okay, so maybe the boost of confidence from Wonder Woman made her grin as she slipped out of the ballroom and headed down the hallway towards the study. She could handle this. She was going to tell Damian exactly what she expected as far as a relationship and they were going to calmly decide whether or not to keep seeing each other.

Of course they would keep seeing each other, Steph told herself. They both liked each other and while the kid could be a little emotionally stunted, he did mean well with the flowers. After all, the flowers had been purple.

And the cards. The cards were what really sold her, each one scrawled out in his neat handwriting, detailing all the things he seemed to like about her. The one still tucked in her pocket that gave her the extra push.

The door to the study was ajar, the inside dimly lit. She pushed it open slowly while her courage still held.

“-TT-, I’m not hungry, Alfred. I want to be left alone,” said a sharp voice near the large bay windows.

“Damian?” Steph asked, frowning and stepping over to the chair the voice had come from.

 She found him slouched in the armchair, glass full of amber liquid clutched in one hand as he squinted through the dimness at her. A half empty bottle sat on the table next to him.

“Stephanie?” he said, looking shocked to see her.

“Are you … are you drinking?” Stephanie asked, the smile slipping away once she got a good look at him. His tie and collar were loosened; his suit jacket had made it to the floor in front of him. He was a mess.

Damian shrugged and took a drink. “What’re you doing here?”

“The party, remember?” she said, waving towards the doorway.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come. You didn’t have to just for me, especially after …” he trailed off and tossed back the rest of his drink. Before promptly refilling his glass.

“You invited me,” she said. This was not going to work. They couldn’t possibly have the conversation they needed to have if he was drunk.  She didn’t think she had ever even seen him drunk before.

“I mean I invited you but then you left so of course you aren’t coming to the party,” Damian rambled, taking another drink. “S’too bad, you look pretty…”

Stephanie grimaced slightly but decided she was going to at least try to get something out of him now that she was looking at all of this calmly. “Look, Damian, I read all the cards you wrote-”

“It was stupid, I was stupid, you thought it was stupid. The flowers were just stupid and I’m sorry for wasting your time with them,” he interrupted with a heavy sigh. He looked so forlorn, staring at the drink in his hand as though it had completely let him down in every way possible.

“They weren’t stupid,” she said moving closer to his chair. “I probably overreacted. I definitely overreacted. I hadn’t read all the cards you wrote with the flowers. I thought you were showing off to avoid telling me how you really felt.”

Damian frowned at her. “The cards … but the flowers were eggplant! Your color, remember? Purple, eggplant, violet, I bought every single one… for you.”

“I know. I’m saying you didn’t have to buy me thousands of flowers.”

“Grayson said girls like flowers,” Damian muttered, downing the scotch again and reaching for the bottle.

Stephanie briefly rolled her eyes. Of course Dick would have told him something like that. She put a hand over his and gently pried the bottle away, setting it back on the large, oak desk, out of his reach.

“Hey! I wasn’t done!”

“Yes you are,” she said, mustering up every bit of patience she had left. Damian was still pouting, slouched over in the arm chair. She kneeled at his eye level and said, “Damian, you wrote all of those cards, right?”

“Yeah, but those are just … things I thought forever, Brown.”

Stephanie took a deep breath and pulled the card from her pocket and handed it to him. “Did you write this one?” she asked.

Damian opened it and squinted at it saying, “Of I course I did …oh …” He went very quiet, staring at the words she had spent the past two days rereading, almost obsessively.

 _I love you_.

“You don’t have to … It’s not a … you don’t need to…” He just couldn’t form the words.

“Do you mean it?” she asked. He wasn’t outright denying it or even taking it back, but she could feel his struggle to backpedal, to somehow lessen the meaning for fear of whatever reaction she might have next. She hated the trapped look in his eye, but she just had to know the truth.

“It’s just that …”

“Do you love me, Damian?”

He rubbed at his eyes, dropping the card on the floor.

Finally, he looked up at her and whispered, “Yes…”

It was a drunken admission and they would definitely have things to talk about tomorrow, but it was enough.

Stephanie smiled. “Yes.”

“Yes … yes what?”

“Yes, I’ll move in with you,” she said.

“You will?” he asked, eyes wide.

“We’ll talk more about it tomorrow. We need to get some ground rules dow-”

Damian had leaned forward and pressed his mouth sloppily to the side of hers in what she guessed was supposed to be a romantic kiss but his eyes closed and his lips paused there for a moment, as though he was unsure how to proceed.

Stephanie put her hands on his shoulders and firmly pushed him back. “Okay, maybe it’s time to get you upstairs to bed,” she said, getting to her feet and attempting to haul him up by the arms.

Stumbling to his feet, Damian leaned on her, his head finding the crook of her neck and his arms going around her waist. “Yes, I’d like to take you to bed…” he slurred, pressing a few more wet kisses onto her throat.

“Not like that,” she said with a sigh, leading him towards the door to the study. “Ground rule one, no more underage drinking.”

“But I’m underage, Brown…”

***

* * *

 

It took Damian several moments to figure out that it was indeed the pounding headache that had finally woke him up. He squeezed his eyes tighter shut, trying to will away the dull pain, as details of last night drifted into his now conscious mind. The party, the study, the scotch … Stephanie …

Damian groaned, trying to recount all of the stupid things he had managed to say. _This must be why father doesn’t drink._

He dimly recalled Stephanie half carrying him upstairs and helping him undress, though apparently not in a sexual way because he was definitely still wearing boxer shorts. And then what? Had she left?

Opening his eyes finally, he squinted, noting a piece of paper on the pillow, right in front of his face. Trying to coax his limbs into motion, he eventually snatched it up, recognizing it as a card one would attach to a gift bouquet (he knew very well what those looked like by now).

The crease and the edges of the card were worn, like it had been held and opened and looked at several times. He knew this card, knew exactly what it was going to say when he opened it.

_I love you._

Damian sat up, confirming that the space next to him in the bed was definitely empty, although the pillows were strewn around. So that was it. He had made an utter fool of himself last night and she had enough of his immaturity. The card was clearly her way of turning him down once and for all.

He stared down at the card, now remembering how she even asked him last night if he was serious about its words.

“Wait a minute …”

Damian dived for his phone on the nightstand and called Stephanie, hoping against hope she would pick up and allow him to apologize for whatever he had done now.

Across the room, a pile of purple satin on a chair was singing some horrid pop song he vaguely recognized. He frowned, ending the call, feeling even more confused. And his headache was only worse now.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

Damian turned his head towards his bedroom door so fast he heard his neck pop.

The first thing that caught his attention was her legs, long and bare and meeting up with the hem of what he recognized as one of his white button down shirts.

“I just had the most enlightening conversation with your step-mother, by the way. She is very happy we are working things out. I never knew Wonder Woman could be so cool to talk to while making breakfast,” said Stephanie, plunking a tray on the nightstand.

Damian stared at her. “You’re still here…”

“Yes, but don’t expect this every morning,” she said, motioning to a plate stacked with toast, two glasses of orange juice, and a bottle of aspirin. “This is just because I feel bad that you’re probably a little hungover after the show you put on last night. However, if in the future you would like to take it upon yourself to bring me breakfast in bed, well, you know how I feel about waffles,” she added, kneeling on the bed and kissing his cheek.

He blinked. “You’re here…”

“I’m here,” Stephanie confirmed with a smile.

Damian pulled her into a tight hug, as though afraid letting go would make her leave again.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into her shoulder. “I was an ass last night.”

“Well, we all have our bad nights,” she said, patting his back.

“You didn’t leave this time,” he said, pulling back to look at her.

“Because I want to make this work,” said Stephanie, reaching for and then handing him a glass of orange juice and a couple aspirin. “I think we can make this work if we try. And if you’re willing to put a thousand purple flowers in my apartment, I think you’re capable of making the effort too.”

“You said … you said you wanted to move in with me,” said Damian, swallowing the pills and juice.

Stephanie’s smile fell slightly for a moment. “Yes… but with conditions. And we will need to seriously talk about them and lay down some ground rules before we proceed with that. Trust me, living with a significant other is not always as glamorous as it sounds.”

Damian considered her words for a moment, finishing the orange juice. “You, glamorous, Brown?” he asked, allowing a small smirk to cross his lips.

She gave his shoulder a light punch for that comment. He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” said Damian, “to finally be with you.”

“I know … you’ve grown so much since I last saw you, when you were young.”

“Does the age gap still bother you?”

“Well,” said Stephanie, now climbing over to straddle his lap, still covered by the sheet, “it seems that the men in your family have a thing for women older than them. It was only a matter of time before you picked up the same habit.”

“Brown,” he said, frowning at her. “I consumed way too much alcohol last night. Your cheek is not helping my headache.”

She leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Right now, in this moment in time, I am not bothered by it. Happy?”

He still had questions. Although now his attention was once more captured by her legs and the hiked up shirt that he noticed wasn’t even buttoned up all the way.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Well I wasn’t going to sleep in my dress,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I … I like it on you.”

Stephanie grinned. “I thought you would.”

He stared at her a little longer, letting his hands slide to her waist. She had stayed, despite how much he thought he had messed things up for good, she still saw something in him.

“Tell me what that card says again,” she said after a few moments of letting him just look at her up and down.

Damian glanced down at the card he had tossed aside then back up at her. He knew what it said. He knew that she knew what it said.

“I … I love you.”

She kissed his forehead.

“I love you,” he repeated, a little more confident.

She kissed his cheek.

“I love you, Stephanie.”

“Yeah, I know, I got your card,” she said, smiling against his lips.

He really shouldn’t have expected anything less from her, he decided with a frown. In retaliation, Damian pulled her down and rolled over on top of her, with the intention of pulling that shirt off and kissing every inch of her. Her giggles soon melted into pleased moans and he found himself really looking forward to a future of hearing that. 


End file.
